


Happy Ending

by NancyBrown



Series: My Third Season [11]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-24
Updated: 2011-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It could have been perfect, but then it wouldn't have been Torchwood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Written for pocky_slash's writing chat thingy. Get a prompt, write for 15 minutes. Prompt: a beautiful evening, ruined

A near-perfect night had been achieved. Lois had her favourite jasmine-scented bubble bath foaming in the tub, her iPod set on a smooth playlist, a glass of wine, and the trashiest romance novel she could find in a quick naked search of her bookshelf when she remembered she wanted something to read. She lit two candles, one vanilla, one something her mother had bought as a souvenir from a trip to Marrakesh.

With a sigh, she sank into the water, relishing the slightly too-hot burn on her bare legs and over her body.

She still wasn't used to Cardiff, to her job, to this life. She wasn't used to twenty hour days, or forty hour days, or whatever last week had been, which had felt like over two hundred hours. The rare luxury of a soaking bath was pure …

Her mobile rang.

She ignored it.

At the second ring, she let out a little cry in her throat, and stepped out of the tub, goosepimples forming everywhere. Not even long enough for the steam to fill the room. She could pretend it would be something else, but the ring tone was too distinct, even before she brought the phone to her ear.

"Yes?"

"Lois, hello." At least Ianto sounded apologetic. Jack never could, which was probably why he'd made Ianto make the call. "So sorry to bother you … "

And there was the distinct sound of the phone being pulled out of his hand, and Jack's short, clipped tones: "The Rift just laid something nasty on us. Gwen and Johnson are meeting us at the site. We'll be by your flat in about two minutes."

"Right."

She rang off, took one longing look at her bathtub, and sighed. Then she marked her place in the trashy novel. Maybe tomorrow night she'd find out if the lusty heroine got a happy ending.


End file.
